


The One Where I Receive a Lesson in Sexual Self-Care from My Sister-in-Law

by mystic_hyacinth



Series: Tyushnakov Family Values [6]
Category: Original Work, Voltage Series
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Coming Untouched, Competent Female Charecters, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Edgeplay, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Fluff, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Office Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Prostate Massage, Self-Acceptance, Self-Indulgent, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Repression, Vibrators, boys in lingerie, mlm/wlw solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: Avel finds respite in a parcel he receives late one evening in the office.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Tyushnakov Family Values [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854673
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	The One Where I Receive a Lesson in Sexual Self-Care from My Sister-in-Law

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimberely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimberely/gifts).



> hope you're all still having an amazing summer. I realized it had been a while since I'd written anything with my OC Avel, so hopefully you all enjoy this little bit of self-love! :D

I’m used to late nights in my office. When the sun sets over Dom Vlasti and it begins to twinkle with its many fluorescent lights, I can easily bid my colleagues farewell as they take off for the evening, leaving me to either try to catch up on the day’s work myself or tidy up a bit before I make my trek across the river to my gaudy old house. Most times I miss dinner, but I can rely on Cade or one of the children to make me feel included, bringing it up to my room and then telling me the gossip of the place as I eat. I always make an effort to go home, for some reason it keeps me sane.

Yet, I’m like a madman tonight. The sun hasn’t gone down yet, the long days of northern midsummer keeping it stubbornly in the sky until what should be considered late into the night. As the clock on my desk ticks to a little past seven and I check my email for the umpteenth time, distraction should come easy to a busy man like me, especially from something as benign as a package.

No, that isn’t right. This is anything but benign. There’s a reason I didn’t even want the blasted thing delivered to my house nor do I have any plans to bring it there in the near future. The box (if it arrives by the end of the day like the shipping confirmation said) will live in my office, hidden out of sights in a safe tucked behind a notch in my bookcase. If I travel, only then will it go with me and leave this sacred home of diplomacy and order - but when I am here, it will stay concealed from the prying eyes of my employees and cleaning staff.

In my futile attempts to distract myself from the thoughts of the package, my mind begins to drift again. It was Cadence, in all her candor and well meaning bluntness that suggested it to me. “You work hard, Avel. Harder than any of us.” she’d said, her voice in my library still ringing clear as a bell though the conversation had happened over a month ago now. “You need something low-stress that isn’t your job. I know you love it, but you need something to take your mind off it fully. Something you can fall into and make your mind go blank.”

She went on about the importance of physical health as well as mental health and when I was about to chide her playfully for her marmishness she continued on to make me choke on my dinner. 

“I know a website that sells good quality dildos and stuff for cheap, not that it matters to you at all. I can give you my login info so you can use my membership, it’s on me.”

I looked up at her with eyes wide, “You’re proposing paying for that stuff for me?”

She only smiled and planted a light kiss on my cheek as chaste as she could be given the situation. “We’re family, aren’t we? We do what we can for each other.” 

Honestly, Cadence could make even Maksim look prudish and frigid - she just has the class not to be so brazen. 

So, here we are - in my desperate quest for inner peace I have let my sister-in-law convince me to indulge in some sexual ‘self-care’. If I am what Shurshanov must rely on to face the rest of the civilized world, she is well and truly doomed. 

I refresh my email once more and sigh - still trying my best to stave off both boredom and anxiety as the clock continues to tick. I don’t dare go back to track the package and some part of me hopes it has been lost in the mail in its journey overseas. 

“Mr. Providet?” says a voice from the door and I damn near jump from my seat before I recognize it as my assistant, Daria. I tell her to come in and I see her holding the massive box, the only things visible behind it being her eyes and hands. “Did you order yourself a bride, boss?”

I can only laugh as she sets it down near one of the loveseats. “Not just yet, do you know where I can find one for cheap?”. 

Now it's her turn to laugh as she readjusts her massive handbag. “I might just have one for you if my date tonight goes badly.”

I arch a brow at her, being careful not to just dive for the box when she’s still in here. “Daria, I thought you told me in Poland romance was just another bourgeoisie ideal.”

She blushed, the deep crimson of her skin darkening to near burgundy. “As is diplomacy, boss.” she said and turned to leave. “I’ll tell you all the details in the morning, will you be staying here long?”

  
Giving an exaggerated shrug, I lied to her. You know how things can be at home.” 

Daria nodded, needing no further explanation. “Hopefully His Majesty hasn’t changed the locks on you.”

I smiled, waving her off and pretending to get back to work. “I’ll just move to the house in Switzerland until he gets over himself, don’t worry.”

She laughed and wished me a goodnight, saying that she would give me the details on my prospective bride after her date before shutting the door behind her. I waited a few moments after the door clicked shut to see if she would return but no such reemergence came. It was after that grace period I descended upon the parcel like a wild dog to a rabbit. 

I managed to cut open the box with my keys and was greeted with a flurry of bubble wrap, packing peanuts and customs forms. Sifting through the madness I pulled out each product one by one with reverent, shaking hands until they were all sitting on the loveseat staring back up at me.

The order was large enough to receive free international shipping, coupled with an extra twenty percent off because of their extended Fourth of July Sale. I picked up the invoice, reading through it to make sure everything I had bought was actually there: a value pack of lube and toy cleaner, a pack of three vibrating buttplugs of varying sizes with an adjoining pack of batteries taped to the back of them, a magic wand, a cock cage, a purple bunny vibrator, a bullet and a set of nipple clamps - just in case I decided to get a little more adventurous. Seeing as how I’d received everything I’d ordered, there would be no reason to send a passive-aggressive email to the customer service and thus I set myself to work. 

I tried to keep the process of putting everything together as methodical and mundane as possible, so as to curb my child-like excitement for my new toys (weird how that works, hm?). For the evening I decided to set aside the mid-size plug, the cage and the magic wand, unwrapping things and cleaning them accordingly. Everything else was locked in the safe and sealed behind the bookcase.

After about ten minutes of putting everything in order, I turned back to the remaining toys on my couch and took a deep breath.

Cadence was right and I would trust that woman with my very life if I could. I needed to clear my head, focus on myself, practice self-care in a way that wasn’t working or the rare moments where I managed to read something that wasn’t the news. I was a Tyushnakov, I needed my vices.

Slowly, I peeled my way out of my clothes, unbuttoning them and folding them neatly on my desk chair until I was left standing in my lingerie. It was nothing too ornate or fancy, a little gift I’d picked up for myself when I was in Lyon back in March, a black lace framed deep seafoam green that the shop owner told me was ‘toute la rage avec les jeunes’. Blame it on my need to feel connected with my fleeting youth or just need to feel comfortable under my smart suits, but I couldn’t resist it. The thigh highs that attached to my garters had remained hidden under my trousers and the brassier had held snugly to me despite my lack of any womanly endowments. In Kieran’s words: ‘Sometimes you can just feel pretty in a nice set of lingerie, regardless of what’s in your pants.’

My nephew, always the champion of gender fluidity.

The next few moments were dedicated to some final preparations. I’d stolen some candles from Kieran and went to light them, letting the honeyed scent fill the room. I’d left my computer open and soon the sound of some young, moody Egyptian boy came warbling through my speakers singing about traveller’s sons and indigo nights, a high-quality recommendation from Kieran.

At last, the stage had properly been set for hedonism.

Kicking off my shoes, I went back over to the loveseat and sank down into it. First I picked up the cage, turning it over in my hands for a moment before sliding off the panties until they sat on my mid-thigh. I was only half-hard from this, but I knew if I wanted the blasted cage to fit I would have to do this now before I could get any more carried away. 

Though it took a moment (and a fair amount of moaning and trying not to get hard) to properly wrangle myself into the cage, I could only shiver in excitement as I turned the key and the lock snapped shut. The key itself fell to the coffee table with a thin clink before I could sit back and properly admire myself. Somehow everything felt heavier between my thighs and I couldn’t help but admire how I looked. The cage was tinted purple but clear enough that I could see myself through it, how helpless I looked, as if I was at the mercy of someone else.

It felt nice, good even.

I have a few testing rubs against my balls, leaning back and sighing at just how much new pressure I felt with the addition of the cage. Soon my stockinged feet were spread wide, resting against the coffee table as I’d taken to closing my eyes and simply just letting my hands wander. The warmth of my palm could still be felt through the cage and it wasn’t long before I was slowly rocking my hips into it, even if I knew there was no hope for me so much as getting hard with this thing on - but I was determined to torture myself, my instinct to self-flegellate never truly gone even in the throes of pleasure.

While my one hand was basically giving my cock and balls sweet nothings through the cage, my other hand had taken to teasing and rubbing my nipples through my bra. I dared not take it off, admiring the sensation of lace and padding against me too much to want to do away with it. I just kept teasing myself, allowing little garbled moans to escape past my lips as the pricklings of arousal began to overtake me. 

It’s not like I had never done this before, I wasn’t a virgin with myself nor others. Yet still my life had kept me like a distant spouse to my own body, only coming back to visit it when occasion or supreme, embarrassing need dictated it so. We weren’t strangers, but we weren’t inseparable - in fact, I think to function properly we had to be apart from one another. When we did join it was quick, messy, taking what was needed and then leaving before one’s better judgement could kick in. It was a marriage of interspace, of convenience - business partnership more than anything.

But no, here as I sat in my green set looking like one of the little Adonises my brother kept in his harem of pool boys, I would rekindle our near sexless marriage. There would be no quickness, the drawn out teasing would be all preamble. I was going to do this properly if I did this at all. 

I continued teasing myself despite the fact that my cock couldn’t really reflect my current state. My hands continued to wander, reading me like Braille. Faded old scars, stitches and birthmarks were all put up for review, things I’d only seen in bursts through my reflection now fawned over and lingered upon. My nipples, flushed an even deeper violet than usual were teased relentlessly as I fought to test the bounds of my new restrictions. My voice, usually a low and somewhat somber timber now reduced to breathlessness and boyish moans. I lacked my older brothers’ purr or my younger’s soft, airy lilt - I was all rasp and practicality. Yet, when I just let my fingers roam, the off-beat tonality seemed nearly fitting.

It was only for the sake of biding my time that I reached for the wand and began to turn it over in my hands once more. The wand was specially made for Nymphs, able to be controlled either by batteries or my own bolts via a shallow notch towards the bottom. I couldn’t help but admire the attempt at inclusivity for a moment before my finger slipped into the little hollow and a few volts created a low, thrumming vibration in the toy.

I hesitated before gingerly turning the thing myself, body jerking forward even with such a minimal amount of pressure. It was as if my hips drove my cravenness, threw me towards it without much thought or care if I landed safely. As I pressed the tip of the wand against the cage I tried my best to hold in my moans to no avail. My cock, softened into submission, could hardly respond as its plastic prison began to vibrate. A shuddery gasp left my lips and despite my best efforts to control my volts, they ticked upwards anyways, allowing the low thrum of the wand to sound like a rattle as it clacked against the cage. The lock started its tinny jingling to the tune of the vibrations as well and I continued my painful sojourn, ticking the wand upwards and losing myself in the rapture.

My other hand was anything but idle as I gripped the wand and circled it about my cock. I had grown more needy, unsatisfied with just teasing my nipples and thus my hand had started trekking downwards, ignoring the entanglement at my crotch and finding its way at my taint. I tried to arch up into the feeling of my warm hands brushing against my balls, but no such glory came. 

For a moment I put down the wand and grabbed the lube, smearing a generous amount on a couple of my fingers just in case my long lacuna from bottoming proved to make me a little less flexible then I had been in my youth. I resumed my work almost too eagerly, spreading my legs wide as the wand returned to my cock and cold, slightly viscous fingers began to circle my hole.

The feeling was almost reassuringly familiar and I sighed into it, willing my volts to slow down in order to fully take in (literally) the feelings around and inside me. The music had slowed, birds called outside as they flew the updraft onto the roof and my fingers began to poke and prod around inside me. 

The momentary chill of the lube caused my body to seize up a bit, but I gradually wound my way down enough to settle into a rhythm. The push and pull my fingers created was comforting, as though I was my own gentle, caring lover. 

And was I? After a little while had I regressed to my adolescent fantasies, dreaming of some tall, lightly muscled individual who would whisper sweet little kindnesses in my ear as they made love to me, maybe even held me as I came? It was a little embarrassing, but I did my best not to let that sidetrack me, I had to be my own lover for now, callow fantasia be damned. 

My fingers were long but bony and so I had to add a couple more if I hoped to properly stretch myself. I didn’t mind the arrangement and took to three fingers after some time, enjoying as they stretched and crooked around inside me. By this point the wand had kicked up again and I was rolling my hips, my moaning coming in time with the crooning of the moody Egyptian boy in my computer. With every wave forward my fingers were shoved in deeper and I could only urge them down more, bending and hoping I wouldn’t snap my wrist in the process. 

It was only after I found my prostate did I actually cry out, another wail tearing out of my throat once my fingers began to press down, messaging it. The wand seemed to max out at its speed, teasing a cock that, in its current predicament, couldn’t even get hard. I was merciless to my own pleasure and yet it would never be enough. Fuck everythig I said about being gentle and caring, this was taking and not bothering to return - a shade of sadism I never thought I could paint myself into. 

After shutting it off an idea sprang to me as my eyes settled on my desk chair and the massive window behind. It was still daylight out, the sun still golden over Dom Vlasti and from my office in the sky, I could still look down and see people.

By that logic, there was a chance they could look up and see me.

I don’t know what sick instinct made me lube up the plug and take both it and the magic wand, back over to my desk and sit down in the chair. The worn leather was cool against my skin and I swiveled myself around to face the city. The Neva, finally thawed out after our harsh winter, crawled lazily underneath the Victory Bridge and that lurid house at One Liberation Place. I could see the dinner cruises docking and floating down the way, people taking pictures, the people in the neighboring skyscrapers, even the snipers on the roof of my home as they did their patrols. Maybe there was a chance one of them could see me as I did this and though that chance was slim it didn’t stop me from spreading my legs again, bracing myself on the windowsill and leaning backwards, letting anyone who dared get an eyeful see what they wanted to.

I’d spent the better half of my life in the public eye, it was infectious, addictive and made such things as privacy for privacy’s sake be like romance in Poland, a bourgeois need. 

For the time being I set aside the magic wand and lifted up my hips more to work the plug in, the lube helping it along as well. It was hardly overlarge but it would be at least something to provide me a decent amount of stretch and burn. Slowly the silicone sunk in and the low moan that came from me sounded foreign as it came out. It hurt only so much, pain and pleasure dancing together inside me as I continued to sink the plug in deeper. It too possessed a notch that would allow me to discharge some volts, and so, with a few sparks from my fingers, the thing sprung to life inside me.

I tried my hardest not to be desperate, what with the cage not allowing me any relief. However I couldn’t help myself, the vibrations were already starting to become too much as I began to fuck myself with the plug, my hips once again starting to undulate forwards. Curses streamed from me as I began to move faster, my hips and hands working together this time. One hand came up and set to teasing my nipples again and for a moment I regretted not taking out the clamps but this wouldn’t be the last time I did this, not by a long shot.

The low moans had turned to breathless gasps before long and the frustration of it all had caused me to reach for the wand again. After just a few moments the vibrations from both toys were nearing their max levels and yet here I was, impotent, unable to so much as twitch as the world below me saw just how filthy I could be behind the bulletproof glass.

Slowly, the pace began to build and I tried my hardest to keep control but lost out to the divine feeling of having my sweet spot hit despite the odd angle. I ground up into the wand and started going harder and faster with the toy. My shaky moans only grew in pitch as I went and I could hardly think as the waves of delectation started to build.

I couldn’t possibly be this easy, but how could I just pretend as though this wasn’t amazing? I felt like an instrument being tuned by my own hands so I could be played in front of a waiting audience, my moans would be the aria, my body a Stradiavirius made flesh. 

When the frustration had built too much, my body too wound up to want to take its time anymore as though some invisible dominant had told me it was safe to come. I hated the process of turning off the wand and going back to grab the key off the coffee table, but once I managed to unlock the cage I knew I would be a ticking clock from there. There was only so much more I could take. 

Returning to my desk I practically dove for the chair and resumed my earlier position. I had to sink down substantially to hit that same angle again but it didn’t seem to matter. Soon I was back to fucking myself, harder and faster than before and my cock, finally liberated - had starting filling itself out shortly after until it was fully hard. I didn’t reach for the wand again, instead just trying to see how long it would take for me to come if I just kept up with this, forcing the plug as far back as it could go and letting the vibrations do most of the work. 

I had to do it right, if I did it at all.

My moans were getting louder now, probably louder than the music, loud enough for the guards to hear. Let them, let them know that their boss loves this - that he wears lingerie under his suits and likes to keep his cock caged while he does this to himself - let them know just how debauched I can be.

The plugs’ quick little reverberating jabs at my prostate were starting to prove too much and soon the world outside my window disappeared as my vision began to grow spotty. 

I fucked myself like it was punishment. My whole body was alright and my cock was straining as it bobbed against my stomach. I whispered ‘please’ to the air around me, as though I had anyone else to blame for what was going on. I was breathless, I was needy and I rolled my hips forward as if tempting anybody who saw me through their peripheral vision to say ‘look but don’t touch’.

Brows furrowed, mouth lolling open and the lights beginning to flicker, I knew I couldn’t take it. It was as though I’d been put upon by a flamethrower. My body, knowing only that it should fuck and be fuck had cut off my higher functions for favor of just taking it until I too would be maxed out.

It was bliss, my punishment - but as short-lived as it was savory. 

My orgasm hit me as though I’d dropped the seventy-five stories onto the pavement below. Come shot everywhere, the wet noises of the impact drowned out by my noise. I kept fucking myself through it, the vibrations not getting any higher but the desperation kept my going. I went til my hands shook, til my body was shaking and my toes were curling in my knee highs.  
I was both in and outside of myself, my body dismembered and yet whole in ways that cannot easily be put in orders. I could only slump as the shakes overtook me, my moans slowly beginning to quiet until I was only whimpering and weakly pushing the pulsing plug in and out of me.

Hopefully, this did a little to help mend the marriage. 

After some time the tremors subsided and I was left to return to myself. I looked down at my body through cloudy eyes, the mess I’d made extending all the way up to my collarbone, staining my stomach and bra in the process. I cursed momentarily, unclasping the ruined garment and going in my desk in search of wet wipes. 

Part of me just wanted to leave all the evidence behind, leave the toys out and not clean up anything but I knew while my voyeuristic side demanded this, rationality reminded me that it was rude to just leave a mess because someone else was getting paid to clean up after you. I had always tried to be kind to the after hours cleaning crew, sexual exploits be damned.

It didn’t take long to clean up everything despite the post-coital revere I found myself stuck in. The music had switched itself to a recommendation from Cade, a British rapper who’s oddly uplifting lyrics set him apart from the usual braggadocio of the genre. Plus, she said she found him quite handsome - and I couldn’t say I disagreed. 

The first line of order was to blow out the candles and try to put my clothes back on with limbs that could hardly bear their own weight. I wiped down the seats, my desk, the coffee table and cleaned up any extra bits of plastic or cardboard that had come from the package. Resetting the place to order felt like aftercare, so I took my time with it. 

I was in the midst of cleaning off the toys and putting them with their siblings in the safe when another knock sounded at my door. “Who is it?” I called.

“Margret Thatcher.” came the warm chime of Cadence’s voice. “Can I come in?”

“Just a second!” I called back and hurried to turn the lock of the safe. Throwing my suit jacket over my shoulders, I gave one last sweep on the room. The candles had been blown out and were set in the window sill. All the stains had been wiped away, the toys stowed out of sight and I’d left a little bit of voltage in the fans to keep them running for about twenty minutes after I’d left to clear out any lingering scents. 

I slid my laptop into my bag and went to join her outside my office. She was dressed more impeccably than usual. A black, satin dress that came to her knees and hugged her as it wrapped about her body. There was a nice bit of intricate lacework about the collarbone and sleeves just a few diamonds to frame her face and neck. She held a matching satin clutch in her crossed arms and looked as though she was picking me over, trying to find any evidence of foul play though I know her usual hard stare had no malice for me. “Have you come to take me to a wedding?”

“I think I’ve sworn off the dreadful things for a while.” she said, thanking the guards as we began to make our way down the hall towards the elevators. “The kids are in the car, I decided to make us a little reservation at this French place across town.”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, hurrying myself to keep up with her long strides. I couldn’t help but notice the flash of red on the bottom of her heels, nor could I ignore the self-righteous swing of her hips. As always, my sister-in-law was a force to be reckoned with. 

“Doesn’t need to be an occasion to enjoy yourself. If I had to wait for an occasion to wear nice things like these I would never get any use out of them.” she said. “Your brother won’t be joining us, he gave me some bullshit excuse about getting too fat and needing to go on a diet. I suppose you’ll have to pretend to be their father in his absence.” 

I rolled my eyes as we came to stop in front of the elevator and I pressed the button to go down to the parking garage. “I thought you said I was too involved with work already, now you’re trying to give me more jobs?”

She laughed and looked me over for a few moments as the elevator dinged and we stepped on. “Well let’s just hope you’re getting enough time to yourself between shifts, yes?”

I could hardly miss the twinkle of mischief in her eyes as the elevator doors clicked shut. I only gave her a knowing smile but otherwise said nothing at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @plentyokenty
> 
> Be safe y'all xoxo


End file.
